Pink Quartz Poem by Erika Conti

old memories on strangers' mobile films
the dagger of love
reminding me
of the beautiful taste of rivers of tears cried
right in front of you
of screams and ecstasy
and the softest shivers cradling my heart
of long walks
long waits
miles and miles
and journeys and anticipation
and.. the ending sipario
always the same every and each time
and waking up to the best sleeping nights
with a sense of you still in the air
of all the magic
and all the grace
and forbidden feelings
of all the changes
and all the fences
and all the masks
what was always is
the purest form of love
i ever felt.